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The Things That Go Bump in the Night (Dreamer and Lizzy)
Richard trudged to his room with a heavy heart and heavier eyelids. With his self-imposed vigil over, he found himself both yearning and dreading the promise of sleep. He nudged open the door to his room with a foot and somehow managed to stay upright as he shoved it shut again before shuffling over to and collapsing onto his bed. Instantly, he found himself standing in his family home as it burned, and his head ached from the metaphorical whiplash. There was the sound of glass shattering, and a familiar sickly sweet smell permeated the air. Smoke tore angry chunks out of his lungs and he coughed violently. He could hear the sounds of people fighting, but this... This wasn't right. Before he could remember why, though, he was racing down the hallway, barefoot and shivering despite the flames that hungrily reached towards his skin. His feet blistered from the heat and still he ran to his brother's room, yanking the door open. Benediktas, only slightly younger then, blearily jolted awake, the sudden intake of breath sending him into a coughing fit. Richard took a moment to thank his father for making him suffer through hours of physical training as he hoisted his brother onto his shoulders and darted back into the hallway. He needed to find father too. That could come later, though. He stumbled down the hallway intent on sparing his brother from the blistering pain his feet were dealing with, and cast a passing glance over the collapsed stairwells. They were too high up to jump to the first floor, so he wheeled around and began running, the house heaving and shifting in time with his frantic breathing. The sounds of violence downstairs increased, there were shouts of alarm. None of that mattered. He needed to find father, and needed to get Benediktas out. The balcony could do, there were trellises to climb down: he and Benediktas had snuck out that very route many times. A great chasm opened before them as he ran: a chunk of the ceiling fell through the floor with little more than a groan and the sound of firewood shifting, amplified many times over. He skidded to a stop, kicking up embers in the process. The balcony door was just on the other side, and he snarled fearfully at the unfairness of it all. Sweat dripped down both brothers, and while Benediktas heaved great, gasping breaths through the back of his robe, he could scarcely breathe. Wide-eyed vision now tinging black around the edges, Richard weighed his options for a single moment. He raised his voice, hoarse from smoke, so his brother could hear him over the roar of the flames. "If I say jump, leap as far as you can. Get on the balcony, get down, get to safety. If you do not see father or me within ten minutes, go to the Kairys house, they like us well enough and will probably let you stay should the worst happen." "Brother, w-what are you going to do?" "Remember how you said you always wanted to fly, Benediktas? Now would be a good time for that wish of yours to be true. And with that, he sprinted the distance between him and the chasm, soaring through the air. For a moment, there was silence, the action suspended as time slowed to a crawl. It was almost peaceful. He wasn't going to make it. "Jump Benediktas!" His voice was muffled, he realized. As if speaking underwater. He was going to fall. He accepted that as his brother launched himself off his back, clearing the chasm with scarcely an inch to spare. With a sickening 'thud', time and sound resumed their normal progression, and he landed on the ground floor. With a groan, he braced himself with his hands and pushed himself up. It was at that moment he realized he couldn't feel one of them. It was the moment following that he realized his hand was now merely a mess of melting flesh. The fact he couldn't feel it did not bode well, and the fact that he could only manage weak breaths against the fierce burning in his lungs was a mournful dirge played in the destruction of his home around him. He had to find his father. Gritting his teeth against the unbearable pain, Richard let out a single sob and clutched his hand to his chest, the sob turning to a high-pitched keen as his left foot tried to buckle out from under him with a surge of white-hot pain. A broken ankle, a hand that would surely have to be amputated, and his father was nowhere in sight. Operating purely by instinct and memory, he stumbled towards the main hall, where he had heard the sounds of arguments. He rounded the corner just in time to see his father, face-to-face with another man, the pair of them surrounded by corpses, shattered glass, and burning house-bits. Both men noticed him a split second after he limped into the room as fast as his leg would carry and shouted out a warning to him. "RIČARDAS! Run! You need t-" There was a gunshot, and his father jolted with the force of it, falling to the ground. The intruder threw his gun aside and pulled out a knife, leaping over the table between him and Richard. The man snarled in some language he didn't understand but it didn't matter. In that moment, all he could see was his father's corpse on the ground, blood pooling in such a way he fancied he could see wings. The other man was upon him within seconds, and as the mans fist connected with his face, something snapped inside of him. The next moment he was aware of his surroundings, he was tearing into the man's chest cavity, screaming and sobbing through the pain of it all, both physical and emotional. He stuttered to a stop when he realized what he was doing but he didn't want to. It felt right, it felt just, to carve away at the thing that left him and his brother orphans without a home. He disgusted himself, and he staggered to his feet once more. He was still screaming. The screams were perched beneath his throat and now they bubbled free, one after another. He didn't notice staggering out the front door into the snow outside. He didn't notice falling face first into it, some hundred yards away. He didn't notice Benediktas carrying him like he had carried Benediktas but a few moments ago. He didn't notice he was hoarse from screaming, and he payed no mind to the blood soaking through every part of him He didn't notice when the nightmare stopped and he woke up. After a moment, he realized he had been screaming in the waking world as well: his throat ached and the echos of the noise he made seemed to now be imprinted in the very walls themselves. He didn't notice how he tried to stumble out the door, only to fall and lean against the doorway, leaving his room open for all to see. He noticed that his hands were shaking, and he was shedding tears. He had tried so hard to repress that memory, and still it crept forward now and again. He noticed that his pocket watch said he had been asleep for all of an hour, if not less than one. He resigned himself to another night without sleep and made a note to try and get some the next day, lest he start hallucinating properly. For that moment, though, he just wrapped Jack's coat around him and tried to make himself as small as possible once he doubled back to curl up on one of the armchairs in his room. He didn't know why he had tried leaving his room, but the door was open and he couldn't be bothered to shut it again. His heart hammered in his chest; A million thoughts tried to curl around him like the smoke in his home and- He stared at the wall and tried to forget. Miss-Dreamerkat: Lizzy sleepily walked down to his room, dainty and quietly. She let out a small yawn but pressed onward. Green hair finally having been brushed that day which took about an hour. And she assumed his room was right down the wall from her own. The only sound she made was of the gentle thud and clonk of her regular and mechanical leg. She stopped in his doorway. "Excuse me are you alright Richard? I awoke to shrieking" She took a step in to the room. The figure that came just an hour or two ago went to investigate and she was by Lizzy's side. Her footsteps were dead silent only one eye was visible through her bandages. "Richard? By the gods you look horrid. Are you alright?" She said recognizing him. "Who are you?" Lizzy asked. "A lodger that's returned home" The figure responded all emotion seemed to be lacking in her voice and not by choice either. The figure tried to show emotion and express it but found that she couldn't. The figure, Dreamer had changed and so she hid her changes and self so others didn't have to see it with the bandages and her dress was her prison outfit. Tairais: He was still stuck between two versions of an uncaring world. The longer he stared at the blank wall before him, the more it began to look like it was being consumed by smoke and flames. Not entirely of his own volition, a low whine bubbled from his throat, and he buried his face in his hands. He couldn't look at anyone, especially once he recognized Lizzy. The other voice was somehow familiar, but he couldn't entirely put a (metaphorical) finger on it. "I am f-fine. Or I w-will be. M-most l-likely. I a-apologize f-for w-waking y-you, I... W-well. T-this.. t-this h-happens sometimes." He switched from addressing the two behind him to muttering to himself. "Tik sapnas, Ričardas. Tik sapnas. You need to sleep." He most certainly wasn't going to sleep until his body gave up on him this time around. Richard sighed and relaxed slightly, never taking his hands from his eyes. The cold metal served to remind him that he technically had two hands, rather than one with melting flesh. The fact he kept feeling the blistered skin instead of metal didn't bode well for the rest of the night, and he quite honestly wanted the pair of them to leave. He didn't want anyone to be in a room with him if he was going too be dragged through the gauntlet of his worst memories. Especially if he was going to be acting through them. He didn't want to hurt anyone else. Miss-Dreamerkat: "Richard your are not alright" the figure said and Lizzy nodded. "I'll go make you some tea!" Lizzy called running off to the kitchen. The figure stepped forward. "Richard relax, you need to relax" she put down her hood and sighed. Tairais: Richard did his best to shrug without moving his hands from his eyes. "I w-will not f-force y-you one w-way or t-the other." He probably should've told them both to leave, but he was too tired and too drained to try at the present moment. Miss-Dreamerkat: The figure sighed. "Richard. You don't need to be alone right now" Dreamer sighed. "Richard it's me Dreamer" She said. Tairais: A flash of irrational anger crackled through him and he had to force his jaw to stay closed while he wrestled for control over himself. He hissed out a slow breath. "W-with all d-due respect, D-dreamer, it w-would be b-best if y-you d-did go. I h-have no d-desire to see anyone h-hurt if I l-lose myself again. I w-will be fine." He tasted copper and smoke. He most certainly would not be fine. Miss-Dreamerkat: "I can handle myself" dreamer said her eye that's visible swirling with red and gray. Tairais: He sighed softly. "T-then if n-not for y-your safety, m-my own... c-comfort. I d-do not care f-for p-people to see me l-like this, n-nor for m-my past to be r-revealed outside of w-what I share." The all-but-admission of his lack of control made his chest ache. A bitter taste lingered in his mouth and the corners of his lips twitched with a repressed frown. He didn't like being this vulnerable, but at that moment, there was little he could do. Well, there were a number of things he could ''do, but none of them were particularly polite. '''Miss-Dreamerkat:' "I can't leave you like this" Was all Dreamer said as she leaned against the door frame. Lizzy returned with some tea. "Here you go Richard!" She said levitating the cup toward him before yawning. "Rest child, you've done your part" Dreamer said and Lizzy nodded leaving. "You know, i know what your going through. I see it in your body expression. Scars of the past still haven't healed, so many people had that same thing in my prison. THEY used it as a form of torture. And so many lay there that tried to help were pushed back or killed. We wanted to help each other no matter how crazy we were. We all wanted the same thing, escape" (Dreamer is now 30 years old) Tairais: Richard smirked. "Of c-course you c-can, p-people leave me in w-worse s-situations on a r-regular basis." He took the cup of tea and held it, grateful for the warmth. He watched Liszt leave, then looked at Dreamer. She reminded him of Jack, faintly, and perhaps that is what prompted him to speak. "R-regardless, I am f-fully aware t-that the scars of m-my past are n-not healed, or h-healing for t-that matter. G-given how recent s-some of t-them are, I am n-not surprised. There is l-little I c-can do b-but wait f-for them t-to heal. F-forgive me if m-my already f-fragile pride r-resents asking f-for help w-when I h-have seldom stood on m-my own t-two feet." His voice had slowly grown more bitter as he rambled onward, and he sighed in frustration. Miss-Dreamerkat: "I understand." Dreamer said. "I fully understand what you mean." She said and to prove a point she started undoing the bandages on her left arm showing what looked like thorns going up it looking like a scar. Tairais: He nodded, then gestured to his face and metal limbs. "I w-will never n-not have the r-reminder of my p-past. T-there is n-not an inch of m-me unmarked b-by it." His hands twinged with phantom pain, and he still saw smile curling through the room. There was the sound of hooves nearby, and he huffed out a quiet breath. Miss-Dreamerkat: Dreamer sighed. "I know" Tairais: Richard smiled softly, trying to both hide his trepidation as the hoof beats grew closer and offer reassurance to Dreamer. "I w-will b-be fine, amico. Y-you do n-not need to s-stay." He sipped at the tea Lizzy had brought and hummed softly, though it did nothing to ease the tension in his shoulders. Miss-Dreamerkat: Dreamer out the bandages back on. "I think I'll stay in this dimension. Ny research is done" Tairais: His smile turned to a wry smirk. "I m-meant my r-room, Dreamer." Miss-Dreamerkat: "I know." Dreamer said turning. "Just don't do anything rash." She warned and opened the door and left. Tairais: Richard chuckled again, this time a mixture of weariness and bitterness. To the empty room, he proclaimed, "My entire life has been one rash decision." At that moment, the stag walked through the closed door. He stood to meet it, and refrained from shouting when it gored him through with its antlers. He rested a hand on its feathers, and it snorted softly. The pair of them sank to their knees, and he began to laugh softly, tears trickling from his eyes. He no longer truly knew if the stag was a production of his mind: the antlers through him felt like several branding irons, and the pain of it all made his vision turn white, but still he didn't shout. He was far too tired to shout. He fell asleep like that, and didn't wake until two days had passed. Obtained From The Things That Go Bump in the Night Category:Side Story Category:Alternate Time Lines Category:Actions Have Consequences